


Don't Cry

by VulpesVulpes713



Series: Voltron Vlogs [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Voltron, but lance is there to help, crying Keith, he's breaking down yo, keith vlog, klance, klance fluff, lance comforting keith, lots of hugs, this happens immediately after keiths vlog, vld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 06:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12163536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes713/pseuds/VulpesVulpes713
Summary: Follows immediately after Keith's vlog, foundhere





	Don't Cry

_ I promised myself I wouldn’t cry! _

 

The thought rushes through Keith’s head again as he pushes his way passed the small table and across the room. He hears something tumble and crash behind him, knows it’s the device Coran had set up for them to vlog into, but doesn’t stop to fix it.

 

_ I said too much… _

 

_ I shouldn’t have- _

 

_ I said I wouldn’t cry! _

 

But already Keith can feel that familiar ache start up in his back molars, signalling an onslaught of tears. He can hold it in, hopefully, until he reaches his chambers, but as the door to the room Coran had them posted in slides open, Keith knows he won’t make it that far. 

 

Because everyone is in the hallway waiting for him to be finished.

 

And they all turn to stare when they see the door open up.

 

And Keith feels his chest constrict tightly as concern etches itself into all their faces; mouths opening all at once to ask what had gone wrong.

 

“Keith-”

 

“What was that noise?”

 

“Were you shouting?”

 

“What happened?”

 

And, probably the worst one of all:

 

“Are you ok?”

 

The voices of his teammates merge into a jumbled mass of words, and though Keith can hear what they’re saying, his brain doesn’t register much beyond that. It’s all too much, and his throat is starting to wobble even at the mere idea of giving them answers. 

 

_ Don’t cry in front of them. Don’t you dare. _

 

_ You promised. _

 

But promises to oneself are more easily broken apparently, and Keith hastily turns his back to his friends as hot, traitorous tears cloud his vision.

 

He doesn’t blink, for fear of them overflowing down onto his cheeks, and storms off down the hallway, away from the others, towards the sanctuary of his bedroom.

 

“Hey-”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Is he...crying?”

 

He hears their voices, but the words don’t reach him.

 

Not until Lance calls out.

 

“Keith!”

 

He’s almost at the end of the hall, about to turn the corner and be free from their stares, but hearing Lance call out his name does something to his body that Keith can’t fight. 

 

His legs freeze, rooting him in place so abruptly he nearly topples over.

 

_ No, no no no no no… _

 

He needs to move. Run. Get out of here while he still has some semblance of control over his emotions. 

 

But as much as his mind wills his feet forward, they ignore his pleas, and remain in place for the demands of the heart. 

 

Keith bites the inside of his cheek as he hears Lance approach. He knows it’s Lance. Can tell from the weight and length between each purposeful step. But he doesn’t turn.

 

_ I can’t let him see me cry.  _

 

He’s begging himself to keep it together, to swallow down his emotions and put on a brave face, but then there’s a soft pressure on his shoulder as Lance reaches out a tentative hand, and Keith stiffens.

 

A pause; a moment of hesitation in Lance that Keith can sense, as if wondering how Keith will react to the touch, but then it’s gone, and Lance is hurriedly coming around to stand in front of him.

 

Keith doesn’t look up. He stares at the ground, keeping his eyes wide to try and dry out the tears that way, and he tastes the metallic tang of blood in his mouth from biting down on his cheek too hard.   

 

_ I can’t- _

 

Arms wrap around Keith so tightly his breath hitches in his throat. Or maybe that’s due to the fact that his heart jolted so severely at the action that he momentarily forgot how to breathe. 

 

Because Lance is  _ hugging _ him, and Keith isn’t sure how to react.

 

So he doesn’t. Instead he stands in the embrace of the Blue paladin, waiting for the moment to end, and urging the tears to keep away.

 

Neither of those things happen. 

 

Lance makes no attempt to step back. In fact, his arms move so that they are pulling Keith in tighter; one going to the small of his back whilst the other shifts up to his head, where Keith feels himself being guided to the crook of the boy’s neck.

 

And it’s such a heartfelt gesture that Keith lets himself go along with it; feels his own arms move without his permission, until they’re wrapping around Lance’s neck and reassuring him that Lance is still there.

 

That he’s  _ actually _ there. 

 

As soon as his mind processes that this isn’t some bizarre fever dream, his body dissolves away. His emotions are contained within a tank, filled to the brim like water. There’s a crack in the glass, but Keith has always been able to prevent any leaks. 

 

He patches up holes in solitude, where the others can’t see. And when his tank his able to properly hold everything he puts into it, he emerges and pretends nothing ever happened. 

 

It works. It’s his way of coping. And Keith knows had he made it to his room, he would have repeated that same process and went on with life as per usual.

Not this time. 

 

He wasn’t quick enough this time, or else, the holes were too large to deal with all at once. 

 

Lance’s hug isn’t helping matters.

 

As Keith’s body melts into the embrace, his heart takes over, and over the span of three seconds the crack shatters the entire tank; emotions threatening to drown him out as they escape their confinement. 

 

Everything rushes out of him so quickly that Keith isn’t aware he’s crying until he feels himself start to choke from hyperventilation. 

 

_ I can’t- _

 

But he is. 

 

And as Keith finally opens his mouth to allow a proper breath to pass, he hears himself sob, and knows it’s too late to pretend otherwise. 

 

He’s crying. In Lance’s arms. In front of the entire team. 

 

But oddly enough, Keith can’t even begin to care. 

 

All that exists is pain from the shattered glass as it tears holes in his chest, salty water as it soaks his cheeks...and somewhere in the back of his mind Keith is grateful for the fact that Lance is wearing his paladin armour, so at least he won’t be able to  _ feel _ his tears as they flow freely from Keith’s eyes.

 

_ I promised! _ He screams at himself.

 

_ Then you lied, _ something whispers back, and Keith falls heavier into Lance’s chest.

 

He hears the boy cooing, but can’t decipher what is being said over the sound of his own misery, so instead Keith tries to focus on his other senses.

 

His sight is blurry and useless from crying.

 

His nose is clogged and running, likely. 

 

And all he can taste is salt as tears run down into his mouth. 

 

But he can feel a movement at his neck, so he latches onto that.

 

It’s a gentle rubbing motion; five fingers toying softly with the hair at the base of his skull, careful not to pull. 

 

And then Keith feels something else on the back of his spine where his paladin armour opens up to accommodate his movements. It’s a warm pressure; unrelenting and reassuring in a way Keith isn’t sure how to explain. 

 

_ These are Lance’s hands, _ he realizes with painful tardiness, but instead of pull back, as he would usually do had he had more composure, Keith leans in closer.

 

He needs to feel  _ more  _ of Lance, and his own arms tighten their grip as his sobbing escalates. 

 

_ Stupid. _

 

_ I shouldn’t have mentioned her. _

 

_ Stupid! _

 

Keith isn’t sure how long they’ve been standing there when he hears Lance mumble something. 

 

He understands the words this time, and takes that as a sign of his calming down. 

 

“-go ahead of me. I’ll do it later.”

 

He’s talking to someone else, and it takes Keith a moment to realize what Lance means. He takes a deep, albeit shaky, breath in a final effort to contain himself as he listens to a pair of footsteps fade away.

 

It works this time, and Keith slowly begins to untangle himself, though he doesn’t step back all the way. 

 

Not yet.

 

He feels Lance’s grip loosen, though just slightly, and senses him staring at Keith’s movements. Keith keeps his eyes trained on the floor, not daring to look up, and takes another mouthful of air before trying his words.

 

“You should-” he breaks off, unhappy with the way his voice sounds; too fragile, not sturdy enough. 

 

He tries again.

 

“Sorry. You should go do your vlog.” Better, but not by much.

 

He feels rather than hears Lance’s resounding chuckle, and swallows thickly as he fights the urge to see. 

 

He’s always liked Lance’s smiles, but now is not the time to steal glances.

 

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” the boy replies, voice hushed but strong, and Keith is almost jealous. “Besides, I have somewhere more important to be.”

 

“Oh...where?” Keith asks, trying for conversation even though his heart isn’t in it. Lance’s hands haven’t left his body, and Keith feels them tighten briefly around him as he lowers his head to whisper.

 

“Right here, with you.”

 

Keith can’t help himself. His head shoots up to stare back at Lance, knowing his eyes are red and swollen, entirely aware that his cheeks are tear-stained and flushed. But Lance doesn’t seem to notice those things, as his attention is solely on Keith’s eyes. Blue bores down into indigo with such a tenderness that another swell of emotion threatens to consume Keith all over again should he prolong the exposure.

 

He ducks his head back down hastily; arms, which haven’t fully left Lance’s neck, snaking around tighter in response to the gaze. 

 

“Oh,” is all he can manage to say, and Lance is laughing faintly once again. 

 

“C’mon,” the boy is saying, and then all at once Keith isn’t on his feet anymore. Instead he’s firmly cradled in the arms of the Blue paladin; hands grasping at Lance’s armour as the sudden shift in position leaves his legs dangling weightlessly in open air.

 

“What are you doing!?” he shouts as Lance begins walking them away from the room with the camera, away from the others.

 

He feels Lance shrug effortlessly, pace not slowing, which is as impressive as it is frustrating.

 

_ Since when has Lance been this strong? _

 

“My legs were getting tired standing in one spot, and there’s a room with couches just up ahead.”

 

_ Oh. _

 

“I can walk,” Keith states, making a feeble effort to wiggle out of Lance’s arms, but it’s futile, and Lance is smirking.

 

“Probably,” he says, and ignores the frown Keith shoots up at him. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to try this for a while now.”

 

Keith feels his frown manifest into a scowl as his lower lip juts out in a fierce pout. Strangely enough however, his arms don’t leave Lance’s neck. 

 

He blames that on practicality. 

 

_ So that I don’t fall. _

 

Keith tells himself that, knowing full well that Lance would never drop him.

 

“What,” he asks in response to Lance’s statement. “Carry me around like a helpless child?”

 

“No,” Lance hums, and Keith tries to ignore the small smile tugging at the corners of the boy’s lips. “Just carry you around bridal style.”

 

Had Keith not already been exhausted from crying and on the verge of passing out, he would have done something drastic.

 

Something like punch Lance in the arm for even suggesting such a preposterous thing.

 

Something like take out his knife and threaten to use it should Lance propose such an outlandish idea again.

 

Or something else entirely, that went hand-and-hand with bridal style lifts, such as a quick kiss on the cheek, or a much longer one on the mouth.

 

But thankfully all Keith can do is duck his head as his cheeks blotch red.

 

A door slides open not long afterwards, and soon Keith is being set down on a couch, with Lance moving to sit next to him.

 

He shuffles down to the far end of the seat, giving Lance space, and hears an irritated huff.

 

“I didn’t carry you all the way here just so you could sit by yourself,” Lance says, but Keith avoids his eyes.

 

“I’m fine. You should go do your vlog thing before Allura gets mad.”

 

The chair cushions dip down as Lance sits, ignorant to Keith’s demands.

 

“I’d rather stay here.”

 

Keith sighs, knowing the stubbornness of Lance, experiencing it first-hand as he slowly lifts his gaze to meet blue. 

 

Lance is watching him with a raised brow, half-smile impish and endearing as he pats his chest invitingly. Keith waits a good five seconds before his resolve breaks, and he crawls back over towards Lance to rest up against his side. 

 

“Wait,” Lance holds out a hand to stop him, before pointing to his paladin armour. “Take the chest piece off. It’s uncomfortable as all hell.”

 

Keith doesn’t even bother arguing, and reaches around behind himself to remove the gear. He sees Lance do the same, and is almost angry with himself that he can’t fully appreciate the way the black part of the suit clings to Lance’s skin, like spandex on a mannikin. 

 

He’s too tired to admire.

 

They toss the pieces to the floor unceremoniously, and Keith finishes by landing heavily into Lance’s open arms. 

 

He knows Lance is grinning victoriously; can feel the sense of triumph fill the air around them. But then a comforting arm is coming to rest around his shoulders, and Keith is pulled into Lance’s chest snuggly as the boy wraps him up once again. 

 

He wants to be angry. Wants to push away and be alone with his thoughts. But at the same time, Keith can’t bring himself to leave. 

 

Can’t even begin to fathom the idea.

 

And with a heavy sigh, he closes his eyes and nuzzles deeper into Lance’s body, soaking up the warmth freely provided. 

 

“You can cry again if you need to,” Lance whispers, and the offer is so genuinely kind that Keith is almost tempted. But he’s too drained, both emotionally and somehow physically, for more tears. 

 

So instead he thinks about what had caused them in the first place.

 

_ I shouldn’t have mentioned her. _

 

But he had, and the more Keith thinks about his mother, and the mystery that surrounds her persona, the more exhausted he feels. 

 

_ I promised I wouldn’t cry. _

 

So much for that. Now the entire ship knew about his weaknesses; his shortcomings both as a paladin and a human.

 

_ And I’m not even that, am I. _

 

_ My Galra mother made sure of that. _

 

There’s a hostility in that thought that has Keith mentally apologizing to the woman he knew so little about. He had loved her at one point though, which makes his anger unwarranted.

 

_ It’s not her fault I have all these issues. _

 

_ Well, maybe it is. _

 

_ I don’t know… _

 

It’s not something Keith likes to think about. Or even talk about. Shiro is the only one he’s allowed to get close enough to wonder, but even then Keith has always kept the subject of his mother to himself.

 

But now everyone would know. The vlog had been made. It was said and done. 

 

They would know, and there was nothing Keith could do about it.

 

_ Maybe I can delete the video before they see? _

 

It’s a wishful thought; one Keith knows is pointless even before fully finishing it.

 

_ They all know by now. _

 

Everyone except Lance, that is. The boy hadn’t once left Keith’s side, and no one had come to tell him anything about Keith’s vlog as of yet. In fact, Keith didn’t even think Lance had asked why he was crying in the first place.

 

He had just known to provide comfort and a shoulder to lean on, both of which Keith didn’t know he had so desperately needed until they were being given. 

 

_ I should thank him… _

 

But that would involve more heartfelt emotions, and Keith can’t bring himself to do it. So instead he makes a final attempt to get Lance to leave. 

 

To push away with what little strength he has left.

 

“You should go,” he mumbles, knowing the boy has other things to attend to. His own vlog has yet to be made, and Allura wanted them all finished by the end of the day to use in the propaganda efforts. He doesn’t have time to be sitting with Keith; comforting him over something so trivial and private. 

 

And this moment they’re sharing is bordering on dangerous now. Keith doesn’t let people in often, and Lance is currently standing in his kitchen holding the tub of ice cream as Keith sobs into it. 

 

Lance is too close to the truth, and Keith knows he’ll eventually find out the cause behind his breakdown. He needs to prepare himself for that, which means keeping Lance at arms length...metaphorically and physically. 

 

“You should go,” he repeats, hoping Lance will. Wishing he won’t. Mind and body in conflict as his heart screeches unhelpfully from it’s cage. 

 

Keith isn’t even aware that he’s nervously rubbing his thumb against fisted fingers until he feels something poke hesitantly at them. His eyes open, where he sees Lance’s hand slowly wiggle it’s way between the knotted appendages, prying open Keith’s clenched fist and filling the gaps with his own delicate fingers. 

 

He squeezes gently, either to reassure or ask permission, and Keith responds in kind.

 

“Hey, it’s ok,” Lance murmurs tenderly as Keith stares down at their hands. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

There’s quiet.

 

Keith’s thoughts are silenced, his heartbeat seemingly nonexistent as Lance’s words wash over him.  

 

_ I’m not going anywhere. _

 

The sentence repeats itself in Keith’s mind, and like a battering ram to a brick wall, there’s a knocking in his chest, hard and firm and determined. 

 

Keith waits; holds his breath as he feels it all unfold. 

 

He’s built walls to protect himself; fortified them with iron and steel and filled in every little crack. His barriers are a force to be reckoned with, and only a select few have managed to breach them. 

 

But the cage Keith keeps his heart in has been long since sealed shut. The lock is nonexistent, and the key has been lost for ages. It’s a cold cage; not made of bars as one would envision, but more similar to a stone box. 

 

And it’s dark in the box; lonely and desolate...but safe.

 

No one can harm him with his heart encased in stone.

 

But as Lance’s words break down his first wall, Keith loses some faith in that box. 

 

As fingers begin to draw patterns into his skin and hot breath tickle his neck with each exhale, Keith is almost worried about it. 

 

And then, all at once, Keith feels himself blinded by light as a crack emerges in the box. Only this time, he doesn’t cower away from it. This time he turns towards it, and basks in the warmth it brings. 

 

_ I’m not going anywhere _ .

 

The words are loud and resilient; their echo refusing to fade, and Keith feels stone shatter to dust. 

 

It’s a clarity he’s unaware he’d been deprived of; a sensation of comfort so overwhelming that he’s almost sure his heart will explode from overdose. 

 

But with each beat, it only grows stronger. Lance’s words fuel a fire in his chest, burning away the pebbles of his cage, the one he had built up and perfected in isolation. He worries about what this means, is anxious about how he’ll recover, but for the moment, Keith chooses to ignore every other feeling that isn’t adoration. He pushes aside his fears and doubts, because for once in his life, he doesn’t feel  _ truly _ alone. 

 

Lance is tightening his embrace, pulling Keith’s legs up and into his lap before reaching for his fingers again, entwining them securely, like a promise to never let go. And Keith feels his eyes slide shut as his breathing evens out; heart exploring this new territory and taking with it the remnants of his energy.

 

He’s about to fade into dreams when he hears Lance speak again, the words sending him off like the final line of a lullaby:

 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Keith falls asleep, willing himself to believe. 

 


End file.
